"This has been a very happy day," said Mr. Holmes; "for though our friends are not all religious people, yet they are very worthy, excellent persons."
"It must be a high gratification to you, father," said his eldest son, "to see the companions of your youth sitting around your table, with your children, and, by mutual intercourse, recalling the early scenes and incidents of your career."
"Indeed it is, William; and I hope God has reserved the same enjoyment for you all; and that, when I am resting in the grave with my fathers, you will think and talk of these gone-by times."
A few days after this, Miss Holmes received the following letter from her esteemed friend, Mrs. Loader, which she had been anxiously expecting for some time:—
29th Oct., 18—.
"My dear Louisa,—I received your letter of ——, and was glad to find that you were so far restored as to be able to occupy yourself in the service of Christian benevolence. The duties which now devolve upon you are no less novel than they are important; and while you may provoke others to scorn by the activity of your zeal, you may sometimes likewise involve yourself in perplexity and mortification. You already begin to feel the loss of the spiritual enjoyments which you so largely participated in when "first you knew the Lord," and you suppose that this is a conclusive evidence of the declining influence of religious principle over your mind; but you ought not to draw such a conclusion. If, dear Louisa, you expect that the realities of the unseen world will always retain that ascendency over your affections which they acquired when you first felt their power, you proceed in your calculations on mistaken data. When you were first impressed by the truth, you were a prisoner—confined in the solitary chamber; you held but little intercourse with the world around you, and your feelings were rendered more susceptible of strong excitement, from the influence which a protracted affliction had imperceptibly acquired over them; but now you are out and abroad—your spirits are braced up by the pressure of calls and engagements, which demand your attention; and you are compelled to engage in the duties and pursuits of social life. Can such a change in your habits take place without having some powerful effect on the state of your affections? Impossible! An active life is less favourable to devotional feeling than a contemplative one; and though I would not throw out a remark which should operate as a discouragement to exertion in the cause of Him who became obedient unto death for us, yet I assure you, that in proportion as the number of your employments increase, you will be deprived of the pleasures of retired devotion, even though the truths of religion retain their ascendency over your judgment, and its holy principles reign in your heart.
"I have thought it right to make these observations, to guard you against the common error into which young Christians often fall, in supposing that their faith is not genuine, because it does not uniformly act with the same degree of activity and power.
"That you should, at times, admit the possibility of the entire passing away of your religious convictions and impressions, and should look forward with shuddering dread to the consequences and final issue of such a calamitous event, does not surprise me, neither does it give me any alarm. This is usually one of the earliest mental trials a young disciple has to endure. You say that, notwithstanding the ceaseless terror which agitates your heart, you are moving forward, though slowly, between hope and fear: and if so, you are safe in the right way to the city of habitation, as fear will keep you from presumption, and hope from despair. Yes, my dear Louisa, the harmonious blending of these affections of the soul, will ever prove, in their restraining and sustaining influence, a shield of defence against the subtle temptations of the great adversary, and a well-spring of consolation in the season of gloom and depression. We read, 'The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear him, in those that hope in his mercy' (Psal. cxlvii. 11). But you are unconsciously guilty of a capital error—you think, and feel, and write, as if there were no being in existence who is able to keep you from falling, and who, at the same time, has no personal interest in doing it. Has a father no personal interest in the preservation of the life and happiness of his child? Hear what your heavenly Father says, when speaking to you from the celestial glory—'Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands' (Isa. xlix. 15, 16). Can you suppose that Jesus Christ, after dying to redeem you, will abandon you and leave you to perish, when you are praying—'Lord save me!' He loves his own; and all who come to him to be saved are his own, and none else will come; and when they come, he will in no wise neglect them or cast them out. Meditate often on the following words, which he spoke when on earth to his disciples, and which he has had recorded in the sacred volume, for the consolation of his disciples of all future times—'I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil' (John xvii. 15). You may have great and sore trials in your Christian course—you may be exposed to severe temptations and great moral dangers, but you are safe; He will not overlook you, or leave you, who gave his life as a ransom for your redemption. Your final salvation depends on no doubtful contingency. It is fixed and certain. And He who gave his life for you, is now preparing a place for you in heaven—is doing something in your behalf which implies the exercise of power—getting in readiness, as I heard an eloquent preacher remark the other Sabbath, a quiet chamber for the accommodation of his beloved disciple in the house of his Father. And after preparing this mansion, he will not suffer its intended occupant to perish by the way. No; 'My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.' (John x. 27, 28).
"I am happy that you are intimate with the Corries, who used to be our next-door neighbours when we lived in London. They are a very excellent family, decidedly pious, and very benevolent. They are Christians of the old school—still retain their attachment to the singular phraseology which at one time was much in vogue amongst our evangelical preachers—and have imbibed a few opinions which, I think, need revision.
"You appear to have had your peace disturbed, and your cheering prospects darkened, by your intercourse with them; but be not alarmed, as the more your faith is tried, the stronger it will grow; and instead of sustaining any injury from the conflicting elements of doubt and suspicion, which threaten to tear it up by the roots, it will strike them still deeper and deeper in that holy soil, in which it is ordained to flourish.
"Your friends are not singular in their views of the nature of faith, but I do not think that they are correct; and as you have requested me to give you my opinion, I will cheerfully do so. They confound a plenary conviction of the truth of the Christian scheme of salvation, with an assurance of a personal interest in its invaluable blessings. This is the error into which they have fallen, and on the eve of which you are now standing; but it does not require much force of reasoning to show its fallacy. Faith is an assent of the mind to some truth, or some system of truth, which is established by satisfactory evidence. As this assent becomes weaker or stronger, in proportion to the clearness and force of the evidence by which it is produced, a full assurance of faith is that high degree of it which admits of no suspicion. Hence, you are convinced that Jesus Christ came into this world—that he sojourned in the land of Judea—that he performed the miracles which are ascribed to him—that he died on the cross to expiate the guilt of sin—rose from the dead—and is now seated on the right hand of the majesty on high, receiving there the ascriptions of praise from the lips of the redeemed.
"You want no miracle wrought in your presence to induce you to believe this, because you believe it on the testimony of the inspired writers; nor is it necessary that a voice should speak to you from the celestial glory to confirm it. But though you are fully convinced of these facts, yet you are not so fully convinced that he died for you—or that he is gone to heaven to prepare a mansion for you, in the house of his Father. You believe that there is 'redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace;' but you sometimes doubt whether you are redeemed and forgiven. You believe that 'he is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them;' but you are not fully persuaded that he is interceding for you. You feel your need of such a Saviour; and you know that 'all that the Father giveth him shall come to him;' yet you doubt whether the Father ever gave you to Christ, or whether you have ever come unto him in a scriptural manner. You cannot believe the truth of the gospel more firmly than you do believe it—you cannot place a more entire dependence on Christ for salvation than you do place—you cannot feel more disposed to give him all the honour of your salvation than you do feel; and yet, at times, you doubt your acceptance—your safety—and your final blessedness. Does not this clearly prove that faith in Christ, and an assurance of an interest in him, are essentially distinct?
"Nor can we doubt the correctness of this assertion, if we attend to the order of the Spirit's operations on our mind. He inclines us to believe the truth which he exhibits; and he enables us to do it. 'For he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will shew you things to come. He shall glorify me: for he shall receive of mine, and shall shew it unto you; all things that the Father hath are mine: therefore said I, that he shall take of mine, and shall shew it unto you.' This is his first act; but it is a later act, to bear testimony with our spirit that we are born of God; and as some space of time must necessarily elapse after he has performed the first act, before he performs the second, it is evident that faith may exist in its purity, and in its power, even when there is no assurance of it. Hence it follows, that a person who relies on the atonement of Christ for salvation is as safe, though he live and die without any firm persuasion of his future blessedness, as one who is enabled to rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Indeed, my dear Louisa, I should tremble to make the final happiness of my soul depend, in the slightest degree, on my personal assurance of its safety. This would be nothing less than intermingling a personal attainment with the efficacy of the Saviour's death; and placing my hope of a blissful immortality on the precarious basis of a fluctuating feeling, rather than on that immoveable foundation which God has laid in Zion. If you peruse the biographies of some of the most eminent Christians, you will perceive that during their pilgrimage on earth, they frequently complained of that alternation of feeling which you now experience; and some have been left for days, and for months, to walk in mental darkness without the light of the Divine countenance. Your favourite poet, Cowper, was a man eminently embued with the spirit of Christ; and yet in what a dark and gloomy frame of mind did he leave this world. His biographer says, that within a few days of his decease, after a near relative had been attempting to cheer him with the prospect of exchanging a world of infirmity and sorrow, for a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, he threw from him the words of peace, and exclaimed, 'Oh, spare me! spare me! You know, you know it to be false.' Having given utterance to this despairing language, he sunk into a state of apparent insensibility, in which state he continued for twelve hours, and then expired without moving a limb, or even uttering a moan. Thus terminated the mortal career of one of the greatest poets that ever consecrated the powers of his mind to the cause of Christ: entering death's dark vale without a ray of light to cheer him in his lonely passage.
"But shall we say that he died without faith, because he died without an assurance that he possessed it? Would not such an opinion necessarily tend to destroy our confidence in the sufficiency of the atonement of Christ, by making our final happiness depend on the peculiar frame of our mind in that solemn hour, when some latent physical cause may bring over the spirit a gloom which no human effort can dispel? If we trust in Christ, we shall be saved; and though we may sometimes doubt the genuine nature of our act of faith, yet that circumstance will not endanger either our present safety or our future blessedness. Indeed, I have known some most exemplary Christians, who have trembled to speak with confidence of attaining the recompense of reward. Removed at an equal distance from the dread of perishing and an assurance of being saved, they have been enabled to cherish and display those dispositions and principles which have satisfied their judgment of their safety, without affording an entire relief to all their anxieties.
"But though, my dear Louisa, an assurance of your interest in Christ is not essential to your salvation, yet it is essential to your happiness. You cannot doubt it, without feeling a deep pang; and if you should habitually doubt it, you will live in a state of perpetual dejection. I urge you, then, to attain it in the spring-time of your experience; or you may accustom yourself to feel more inclined to cherish, than to expel despondency. 'Wherefore,' says the apostle, 'give all diligence to make your calling and election sure.' And that you may attain this assurance of hope, which will be as an anchor of the soul during the perils and conflicts of time, look up, by faith and prayer, to the invisible Source of all consolation and joy; ever remembering that 'the Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: and if children, then heirs; heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ' (Rom. viii. 16, 17). This witnessing testimony is as necessary to superinduce this assurance, as the precious blood of Christ is necessary to remove the guilt of sin. Never forget this.
"And if you should not immediately attain a full assurance of your interest in Christ, do not suffer your mind to be overwhelmed with anxiety; as this is an attainment which belongs to the more advanced Christian, rather than to the young disciple. It will not come at once by an overpowering force, driving away every gloomy fear, and throwing open before you a clear prospect of a blissful immortality, but gradually, at intermitting seasons, weakening the strength of your doubts, and strengthening the weakness of your faith; till at length the God of hope will fill you with all joy and peace in believing. I was much struck with a paragraph in a devotional treatise which I recently perused, and which I here quote—'Great consolation is often received at different seasons, even during the period when our general feelings are intermingled with dark and painful forebodings. Hence, the weakest believer sometimes returns from the closet, and from the sanctuary, strong in faith, though he may again relapse into his more stated frame of despondency. The clouds occasionally separate, to enable him to view the Sun of Righteousness, and feel the healing virtue of his presence, though they may again unite to obscure his vision, and leave him to grope on his 'darkling way.' These intermitting seasons of darkness and light, of high enjoyment and deep dejection, have a salutary effect, and serve to prepare him for that state of settled assurance, which, in fact, they tend in some measure to produce.'
"As I have so far exceeded the ordinary bounds of a letter, I shall not enter on the other very important questions to which you refer in your last; but will do it at some future period. It gives us great pleasure to hear that you have such an excellent minister near you, and though he preaches in a chapel which does not belong to our Establishment, yet, if he preach Christ and him crucified, I have no doubt you will enjoy his labours. The feet of the messenger that publisheth peace, are no less beautiful on the mountains, than in the city; and his proclamation is as interesting to the self-condemned sinner, when delivered in the unconsecrated chapel, as in the majestic cathedral; and though we may retain our partialities to forms and places, yet, if we ever suffer our prejudices to deprive us of our spiritual privileges, we shall be guilty of a suicidal act against both our peace and steadfastness in the faith.
"The account which you have given me of your sisters has awakened an opposite class of feelings in my breast. Emma, I fear, is under some fatal influence which you have not yet detected, and will, unless subdued by the loving-kindness of God our Saviour, devote herself to the pleasures of the world. Her beauty has made her vain, and the versatility of her talents is a snare to her. You must watch over her with great care, and pray that He who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light, would be pleased to renew her in the spirit of her mind. Jane is a lovely girl. She has an elegant mind, and if the good work is begun in her heart, she will be an interesting companion to you. Let me hear from you as soon as you can spare a few moments from your numerous engagements, and believe me, yours affectionately,
E. Loader."
FAMILY SKETCHES.
